It is not the demure shade of pink that you want, that chaste blush that doesn't quite know what to do with itself, nor the muted rose that almost resists its pinkness. You don't even want the glitter pink of fairy princesses or the naked pink of nails that like to pretend they're not polished. No. You want that bright pop of bubble gum color, that hot zing of watermelon flesh, that pink worthy of its own dance number.
Spring begs for that color, that tart splash reminiscent of umbrella-adorned cocktails and the luminous glow of the sun setting over the mountains. You want the flirt of all colors--not the siren song of its cousin color red--but the bright, coquettish energy that's always ready for some fun.
You want the bold. You want the playful. You want that color that makes others do a double-take, the color that refuses to be watered down into a cheap pastel. No, this color won't be sanitized. And as you wear it, neither will you. It is a wearable invitation to be light and sassy, daring anyone to bat an eyelash at your splash of color. Yes, you want a color that refuses to be chaste, even as others might wish it were so if only to keep the faint blush from creeping up their necks and inflaming their cheeks--those fleshly stains barely concealed a desire for the promise of pink.
Yes, you want a pink that doesn't apologize.
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